2x

It's so hot, 
we might 
see double.
Photo: Doorway, Napier

all is well

There's something 
about being in a cafe 
that lightens,
brightens. 
Photo: Napier windows, New Zealand

evening streams

Early evening, and swimming 
in the river. Nothing like the lightness,
the silkiness of being 
underwater, as if we ourselves 
are streams.
Photo: Morning tree, Napier, New Zealand

Hello Paul

Reminds me of Paul Klee.
Photo: Late night containers, Tai Hang, Hong Kong

both

I want to enclose and be enclosed.
Photo: A room in New Pacific Studio, 
near Masterton, New Zealand

sometimes I prefer distance

I love the ocean for its space, but 
sometimes I prefer to be a distance 
from the sound, the pound, of the waves.
Photo: I's shadow, The Pacific, Napier, New Zealand

man and sea

As soon as 
we arrived, 
he walked 
to the sea, alone.
Photo: C and the Pacific, Napier, New Zealand

this is not

This is not a pine cone,
and not beaks trying to speak
or receive regurgitated food.
Photo: A cone in the garden , New Zealand

north

The ubiquitous fence, hill, wire, sky.
Scenery to the north of our home.
Photo: North of the town Palmerston North, New Zealand

head, radiating

Today a hot day, 
especially for the head.
Photo: Flowers I don't know the name of, New Zealand

very day

Today, a holiday. Time
to be silly. Very.
Photo: Portrait with software

a poem to give

Wait until this moody weather 
is over / That’s all that matters...
Photo: Lotus in car, at a festival, Hong Kong. For P.K. 
Text: From "A poem to give to a bitter melon," by Leung Ping Kwan (1949-2013)

string and towels, touching

Don't know why I love 
string and rope. I hold  them 
at hardware shops, and sometimes 
collect them. Towels too. 
I touch what I love.
Photo: String for the garden, Carterton, New Zealand

one two flow

Today, five writers will be together
here in my home, seeing
how our written 
words flow.
Photo: Horse jumps, New Zealand

please write me

I want to write, but don't 
know what. Soon. Soon.
Photo: In a cafe bathroom, 
Napier, New Zealand

glory in the highest

Today is the birthday of two friends in two countries. 
May this day, this year, open many glorious things.
Photo: Open window, Napier, for G and S

nothing?

I do not agree.
Photo: Outside an architect's firm, 
Napier, New Zealand

dream

I dream of you but 
you are not a dream.
Photo: Napier bed, New Zealand
Text: The end of Love Poem by Gregory O'Brien

dry hot dry

A dry time.  
Grass is yellowing,
wisteria leaves falling.
We woke up this morning
and saw a double rainbow,
but only spits of hot rain.
I once called summer
a giant snail.  
Photo: City bench, Napier, New Zealand

a bright return

One morning we came upon these bright trees.
The orange-red is the flame tree, also in Hong Kong.
And the blue flowered one is jacaranda,
a tree I once knew in Los Angeles
and had almost forgotten.
Photo: In Napier, New Zealand

hello radio

I will go to a radio station today. I like 
not seeing everyone I am talking to,
and the feel of headphones 
on the ear, over the thoughts.
Photo: No parking here, New Zealand

live, alive

Last night, live music.
So alive.
Photo: Roses in our garden, New Zealand

8 + 1

Yesterday's gone.
Photo: A horse, numbered, branded
New Zealand

on the first day

The foal can stand 
on the first day of life,
but spends a lot of time
resting at the mother's side.
Photo: At a neighbor's stable, New Zealand

moist

I feel rain.
Photo: My road, New Zealand

One Pacific

We walked to the log-seat,

and then a bit onward, eastward, 
to the sea, the same large sea 
we once walked westward to,
how many years ago.
Photo: The Pacific, Napier, New Zealand
and remembering Moss Beach, California

hey!

I once saw an ad 'Hey for sale' 
and I both smiled and cringed.
Photo: Hay, New Zealand

I need to write

I write to know 
what I know.
Photo: Installation (excerpt) 
by Wong Yankwai, Hong Kong

kindness

Over a year ago, I met the man
who lives in this room. Our eyes  
shared a kindness, and I wish him,
I wish us, many wishes.
Photo: A room in Shamshuipo, Hong Kong
He paid more per square foot than I did in rent,
though my income was far higher than his.

tree to tree

Once upon a time, the treetop
was below the window. 
A man I know would walk 
the wooded hills and swing 
tree to tree.
Photo: I's and H's and K's 
childhood home, New Zealand

peep peep

One day, we played 
and peeped
and played.
Photo: B in a field, Carterton